In A Crooked Little House
by MelissaeWrites
Summary: Jack always thought playing doctor was supposed to be a lot more fun than this. Unfortunately, domestic bliss isn't always so blissful.


A/N: So a couple people mentioned that they'd like to see me write sickfic where Aster is the sick one, which confused me until I realized that I'd forgotten to upload this little fic I wrote for Jackrabbit Week a few months ago. It's not quite as fluffy as the other one because I wanted to play with the idea that building a life with someone isn't always fun, but I hope y'all still like it.

* * *

Aster woke up sweltering, not something he was used to now that he was sleeping with Jack. Usually he fell asleep clutching at someone freezing, and though Jack was usually all warmed and pliant by the time they woke up, he never really got above room temperature. But today even his chilly bed partner couldn't prevent him from dampening his fur with sweat, and it wasn't until a heavy shudder racked his body that he realized exactly what was going on.

He pulled away from his mate and flopped on the other side of the bed. "Oi, Jack. Wake up." Best to let him know early on that he was sick, that way he could clear out so he didn't catch whatever was wrong.

Jack moaned slightly in his sleep, then rolled over so he could reach out, tangle his fingers in Aster's thick fur. He made a sleep-drowsed sound that could have been an inquiry, but it was equally possible that it was a complaint.

Aster huffed out a sigh and disentangled Jack's fingers from his chest. "Snowdrop, you're going to get sick if you stay in here," he said, hoping that would snap Jack out of it. Honestly, Jack was such a disaster in the mornings.

Bleary eyes opened, and Jack looked at Aster warily. "Sick?"

"Sick," Aster replied firmly. "I think I've got a fever, mate. You should clear out before you get it, too."

Jack's eyes instantly cleared up at this, and suddenly he was further up in Aster's personal space than he had been when they were sleeping. "A fever? Why? Are you okay?" he asked, peering into Aster's eyes worriedly as if they were about to start seeping blood or something.

"Oi, budge up," Aster said crossly, pushing him away. "It's just a fever, Jack. It even happens to Guardians sometimes." He didn't say that it really didn't happen that often. There was probably something wrong in the warren if he was feeling this shoddy. Not likely anything worse than a plant blight, but it would be difficult to take care of while he was like this.

Jack obediently (and since when was that a word he could apply to _Jack Frost?_) tumbled out of their bed and started rummaging around for his pants. "Is there anything I can do? I can make soup," he said, voice muffled as he yanked his hoodie on over his head.

Aster wormed his way beneath the covers, wanting the comfort of his oldest quilts despite the fact that he felt like he was about to explode from the heat. "Don't worry yourself, Jack. It's just a cold."

* * *

The next thing Aster knew, he was being startled awake by the clattering of a tray on his bedside table. He peeked one baleful eye out from under the covers to see Jack looking sheepish next to his bed. "I got you some iced tea from the kitchen. When I was sick, my mother always used to tell me that you need to drink a lot. And," he said, flourishing a spoon, "I made that carrot soup you like so much."

The last thing Aster wanted to do currently was eat food. His stomach rolled at the thought of putting soup in his body, and he ached right down to his teeth. However, he knew that starving the fever would just make his problems worse, so he took the proffered spoon. With Jack's help, he took a small bite of soup. The minute his lips closed around the spoon, he knew that dulled senses or no, this was not right. "Jack... What did you put in this?" he asked as soon as he was sure he could keep a straight face.

Jack shrugged, putting the bowl back on the table. "I dunno. Carrots, veggie broth, some salt..."

And there it was. "Some" salt. It was an awful lot more than some, if Aster's taste buds were anywhere near their original strength. He looked from the bowl of soup to Jack, who still looked _painfully _eager to please, and for just a split second actually considered eating it. But his tongue was actually starting to burn a little from his first bite and he just couldn't stomach it. "Jack, love, could you get me a wet cloth from the kitchen?" he asked.

"Sure!" Jack said, and beamed, obviously relieved to have been given an actual task. He darted out of the room without a second glance.

Once Aster was 100% sure Jack was gone, he carefully tipped his bowl out next to the bed. The flowers could get some fertilizer and he could get a bit of relief. This accomplished, he snuggled back down under the covers again with a sigh and fell fast asleep.

Not much later, he was woken up by a cold, wet rag on his brow and blessedly cool fingers stroking along his ears. He purred at the twin sensations, curling up so he could put his head in the lap of the person rubbing his ears. He hoped it was Jack, but he wasn't especially choosy right now.

At least not until mystery person started to knead at the base of his ears. Usually, this would make him go embarrassingly half-lidded, but today his ears were tender and swollen and he couldn't hold back the yelp of pain when icy fingers dug into a particularly sore spot.

"Oh jeez!" Yes, definitely Jack. "I'm sorry, Aster, I didn't mean to, I-"

Aster moaned softly. His Jack was always a bit loud, but now his frantic apologies were like nails on a chalkboard. "Turn it down, Snowbird," he mumbled, burying his head in Jack's lap, and he felt cautious arms settle around his shoulders. It felt nice. He could feel Jack's chilly skin even though his clothing, and it made for the best cold pack in the world.

He sighed, pressing his nose against a frigid thigh. "Just stay put, yeah?" he asked, voice muffled against Jack's skin. Later he would frown at himself for such a selfish, weak request, but for right now, curling up against his mate seemed like the only thing in the world that would make him feel better.

"Yeah, okay," Jack whispered, then cautiously started to stroke his head.

It felt glorious against his headache and Aster was just starting to drift off to sleep again when Jack started to fidget. Just a shifting of weight here, then a muscle tremor there. "Jack."

"Sorry, 'Roo. I just have to-I'll be right back." And with that, he was flitting off again to do whatever little things he had to.

Aster sighed again and rolled back under the covers. Shouldn't have expected that little larrikin to stay put, anyway.

* * *

The next time Aster woke, it was to the clattering of a lifetime's worth of trinkets falling out of the wardrobe, presumably on Jack's loud, obnoxious head.

He kept his eyes closed. Breathed in. Breathed out. Tried to ignore the sound of Jack's muffled cursing. It'd be one thing if this was the first time, but over the last two days, Jack had managed to knock things over and/or break them a good dozen times, tugging Aster out of well-needed sleep each time. It seemed that Jack was never louder than when he was trying to be quiet.

"Jacko," he finally groaned out, "What on earth do you think you're doing?"

With eyes closed, Aster couldn't see Jack's expression, but he could hear the sheepishness in his voice when Jack said, "Sorry. I was just trying to put some things away."

"_Now?_" Aster growled out.

"It's not that big a deal, Aster, I just-"

Aster opened one baleful eye. "'Not that big a deal'? You've been rummaging around, knocking things over, waking me up for two days, Jack!" he snapped.

Jack pouted and put his hands on his hips. "Well, I'm sorry. I'm just trying to help out while you're sick."

Aster couldn't help it. He scoffed.

Jack stilled. "What was that?" he asked.

And it was like floodgates had been opened, and where usually Aster would bite back a retort, he felt almost compelled to answer him. It felt uncomfortably like how he used to react when they had first met, cross words and hurt feelings being drawn inextricably from him like thread from a sleeve. "Help out? You've been mucking things up ever since I got sick."

Jack gaped like a fish, and if Aster wasn't feeling like his head was full of waxed cotton, he might have laughed. "Excuse me?" Ah, yes, now the bloke had the audacity to sound offended.

"You keep battering me around-"

"No, I do-"

"You seem to think 'starve a fever' actually has merit to it-"

"Hey!"

"And you can't keep bloody quiet! How's a man supposed to improve with you causing a ruckus everywhere you go?"

"Now you wait a minute," Jack interrupted, "I've been breaking my back trying to make things easier on you and all you've done is complain!" Aster was pretty sure it wasn't his imagination when the temperature in their room dropped a few degrees.

"So what, now you're going to freeze the room? Probably be a sight more helpful than you've been so far," Aster snorted derisively.

Jack winced and clutched at his staff like a lifeline. "I didn't mean to-"

"Just clear out, Jack. You're just making this more of a trial than it already is," he bit out.

Jack pulled back as if he'd been burned, and looked at Aster with wide, stricken eyes. But just as quickly as that vulnerable expression had been shown, it was covered up with downturned eyebrows and a pinched frown. "Fine. If you want me gone, I'll leave. You can take care of your own stubborn self." The words shook slightly, whether with anger or something else, Aster wasn't sure, but Jack covered it with enough bluster that he couldn't hope to puzzle it out. He whirled on his heel and stalked out, slamming the door behind him.

Aster winced at the sound, then buried his head under his pillow. Bloody whinger.

* * *

The next time Aster opened his eyes, he was feeling much more himself. Through a sleep-hazed fog, he reached out to the space next to him, intent on curling up against his mate, but he found only empty covers. He recoiled as the evening's previous events flooded back to him. Well. He'd been a right wanker, hadn't he? Sure, the kid had been annoying as hell, but he'd been trying. Which was more than he could say for himself.

He rolled over so he could stare at the ceiling, trying to get his thoughts into some semblance of order. He'd have to haul himself out of bed later, see if he could feel out the source of this illness. Once that was taken care of, he could make it up to Jack. He'd have to find him first, though, and honestly, he could be anywhere. He could be staying with one of the other Guardians, or he could be back in Burgess, or flitting around in the tundra he always seemed fly off to when he was angry-

"Aster?"

-or he could be right there in their bedroom. Aster raised his head from his pillow to see Jack standing in the doorway, one hand tangled uselessly in the hem of his hoodie, the other clutching onto his staff so tightly that his knuckles were pure white. He appeared to be holding a bag of something, but Aster couldn't tell what it was from where he was lying. He shook his head and tried to lever himself up on his elbows, grunting at the exertion.

In a moment, Jack was at his side, helping him sit up and arranging their downy pillows behind his back to help keep him propped up. Once Aster was arranged, however, Jack seemed to remember himself. He yanked his hands back to his sides and took a step back, unsure.

Aster reached out and caught Jack's hand, pulling him close. "C'mere, Snowdrop," he said tiredly.

Jack went willingly, propping up his staff against the wall next to their bed before climbing in next to Aster and fitting himself against his side. He snuggled in close, tucking his nose against Aster's shoulder, and didn't say anything.

Aster let the silence stretch on, partially because he didn't want to push Jack, partially because now that his mate was curled up next to him, he was starting to feel too comfortable to stay completely awake.

And then, "I'm sorry."

Aster blinked himself awake. "What?"

Jack shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make things harder on you, I just..."

"No, love," Aster said, shaking his head as best as he was able. "You were doing your best. I'm sorry I took things out on you. I feel like I've taken a boomerang to the skull, but that doesn't mean I should be sniping at you," he said with a heavy sigh.

Jack reached up to brush a tentative hand across Aster's brow, and Aster pushed into it. "I thought Guardians couldn't get sick," Jack confessed, voice low. "It scared me a little."

Aster butted his head against Jack's hand once in sympathy, then pulled away. "It's not usual, mate, but it does happen, especially after taking a hit to the belief like I did not too long ago," he explained. Jack started getting that awful guilty look in his eyes again, so he quickly pressed on, "But it's really not as scary as all that. Most likely just means that some of the plants are sick in the warren. Sometimes when there's a break in my power or a breach in the warren's defenses-or both at the same time, as the case may be-it'll leave the plants vulnerable to foreign influence for a bit. With so many people traipsing in and out of the warren nowadays, someone probably tracked in a bit of nasty fungus or something. If I find the blight and fix it, things should start to look up."

Jack nodded. "Yeah, that's what Tooth said."

"Tooth?" Aster asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah," Jack said, and ducked his head. "I went to go see her after you kicked me out." Misreading Aster's dark expression, he added, "I was worried!"

Aster settled himself lower against the pillows and pulled Jack tighter to his chest. "And what did Tooth tell you, Snowbird?"

Jack shrugged. "Just that it wasn't really surprising after what happened with Pitch, and that it might be a plant thing. She said your powers are connected to the plants in here, so when they start getting sick, you can get the flu like a normal person."

"Fair enough," Aster said. That was why he hadn't wanted Jack with him initially. It was hard to tell how communicable these things could be. Still, it had been a few days and Jack didn't seem to be showing any adverse effects...

"Oh!" Jack said, sitting up in Aster's grasp. He lowered his voice, looking sheepish, when Aster winced. "Oh. Um, Tooth also gave me some medicine to give you. She said it would help with the symptoms long enough for you to figure out what was wrong."

Aster gave the bag Jack was still holding a wary look. He'd had Tooth's potions before. They worked relatively well, but they always tasted worse than a boomer's bunghole. "Well, let's get this over with."

Jack willingly handed over his bag, and Aster pulled out a small vial of delicate, iridescent glass. Deceptively pretty for something so vile. Steeling himself, Aster popped the cork and downed the potion. It was simultaneously slimy and spicy, and the mixture brought tears to his eyes.

Jack, for his part, managed to keep a straight face. Mostly.

It took a bit for the potion to kick in, and Aster spent an hour or so drowsing against Jack's side before he started to feel its effects. His head started to open up, and suddenly, and idea came to him. He couldn't quite believe it had taken him so long to think of it, but in his defense, he had been quite ill. "Hey, Jack, are you still wanting to help?"

Jack perked up. "Is there something I can do?" he asked, sitting up from where he'd been lying against Aster.

"Oh yeah. I need you to get me a pair of shears and a bit of fungicide from the shed-it's clearly labeled so don't you bring me anything else-and a book on blights from the library." Aster grinned at Jack's look of consternation. It was good to have a plan. "I'm going to teach you a little something about pruning."


End file.
